Three Days
by PsychoSybil
Summary: Sesshoumaru gets his ass handed to him yet again and decides to take a respit to reflect on his near death experience with Mouryoumaru. This fic deals with events surrounding mangas 405-409. Took me 3 yrs to write. Yay.


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A/N: This deals with the events after chapters 405-409, which were pretty damn pivotal chapters in the IY series. Anyway, I don't own IY or any of the character cuz my name's not Rumiko Takahashi. Wish I had her bank account...

I started this fic back in 05 I think, but then I'm not sure. All I know is that its really long and full of my weird writing. Njoy. R&R if u dare. I wrote this on and off between temp jobs and while I was drunk. Good luck.

Three Days

Day one

"Oyakata-sama, does everything die?" The little, black-haired human girl asked innocently.

The TaiYoukia looked at her in a state of complete disbelief, eyes wide and mouth agape at the thought his ward could ever ask such a question. And never had she called him 'King', either. He was 'Kami' for kami's sake, for he wielded the God-Sword, Tenseiga. He was infallible, afterall…

The short green one, too, was at a loss.

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They were alone now, just the two of them. Her nemesis had gone off on their Lord's orders to seek out a local blacksmith to repair the gaping hole left in their Lord's armor by an all too recent fight in which said Lord had chosen to participate. A fight which she had no knowledge of, but would soon come to know. She noticed her Master sat alone on a goodly sized rock staring blankly at the scenery in front of him trying to pretend the wounds covering his body, limbs and face weren't as severe as he let on -- but they were. He knew it, she knew it and his lackey knew it. In the depths of his darkened mind, he despised himself and his two adoring followers for allowing them to display such condescending mannerisms in order to avoid his wrath while he was in a state such as this -- Wounded. If they even dared get near him all he need do is give them "_the look"_ and that usually held them at bay for a few minutes or hours, or days, or weeks, or what have you depending upon what the situation was. However, this time around the situation was just a tad bit different in that he nearly lost his life due what us ningens like to call "Emotion" and a situation whose circumstances he refused to explain to his curious ward how got to be so banged up. Now, at the front of his mind, he was more worried that the lackey who had just started his mission (with the two-headed beast) only minutes earlier was not around to keep the little whelp in check. Yes, he deemed her a 'whelp' because any time he came back defeated and/or wounded from any encounter in which he was then was left alone with her for any period of time, she would act all "human" on him: Trying to make him better in any way she could by rubbing his hand or speaking comforting words to him or looking up at him with those soulful big brown eyes of hers to show she was genuinely concerned for him. Sometimes she cried for him, other times she brought him flowers. During some nights she snuggled up to him to tell him silly stories and during the day, she babied him never keeping her eyes off him. At present, he looked slightly to his right to glance upon her small person in reflective thought to recall that she would do most anything to cheer him up and further, to ensure his well being. But moreover, her human-ness made him secretly afraid of the string of unending questions he would be barraged with if those other tactics of hers didn't work. Questions that, for the most part, he refused to answer because they'd only lead to more and he didn't need this sort of aggravation right now since he was tired and very much needed rest! Yes, he had to admit, the great and all powerful Lord of the Western Lands needed sleep. He shuddered to think that those same questions, at other times, would leave him dumfounded. Not in his long life had any human silenced him such as she! And not since when he was a pup had he had to put up with so much…..m_othering!_ How did she manage to do it, this mere 8 ½ year old girl?! Without compromising his patented coolness, he sighed somewhat frustrated at his ward's persistence as past memories with his own Mother came flooding back to him. He remembered his Mother had been caring, gentle and firm with him, but never so persistent. His mother been distant to him but caring at the same time-- A paradox he could not understand as a child. But since he was his Mother's son, centuries later, he did. Inwardly he sorely missed his what his Mother could have been – caring and loving. And maybe, this little girl was the answer to what he had never had after losing touch with his mother after he reached adulthood. His reminiscence and his gaze lingered on the small human female a little while longer as he regarded the meaning of their relationship, which meant his mind began to assault him with its own clip of questions: Was it inherent in the little whelp's nature to be as such? Was it fate that brought her to him or vice versa? Was she there to break him down? Had he changed that much since their first encounter(s)? Why had he been chosen to be her guardian? Was this what it was like to be a parent? Why did he feel compelled to care and protect her? Did he actually love her as her adopted father? Did she love him too? Did she adore him that much that she'd never want to leave him? If she did leave him in one way or the other, would his world fall apart or would he go on like before? Why was this creature so alluring yet so damn annoying not to mention confusing? Were her attributes the side effects of being human? A thousand questions plus came down the pike to plague his mind at that very moment and not one neither he nor the Fates could answer. She had managed to turn his world topsy-turvy. Again, how did she do it? After some minutes passed, he averted his gaze back to the scenery in front of him and continued to sit and think. So, late into the afternoon he just sat and thought. And sat there he did until he was able to move without so much pain.

The avoidance of pain was one of his goals that day. The other was not letting the other two know it was that bad. Every time he moved, searing hot pain tore through his perfectly defined muscular body like a scorching-hot branding iron deliberately burning its steely teeth slowly but surely into its fleshy, quivering, knowing victim to leave its smoking mark. His two minions feigned disinterest in his condition as he sat there nursing his wounds like the injured dog he was and it would not yet be another day before his youki healing had restored his body to its original condition. However, for the moment, he was still visibly covered in wounds from head to toe. His silk robes fared no better than he and were in need of a good tailor. With his overly sensitive inu-youkai hearing, he could hear every word of their whispered conversations regarding his welfare and even though he showed open disapproval of their actions through his glares, inside it gave him great satisfaction to know they cared. Despite the small of jolt pain he felt, he turned his body to where they could not see his face as he slowly ran his only hand through his mussed hair in a pretense to hide the small smile he was sporting. The moment was short lived though seeing as his lackey stepped forward to remind the somewhat caught off-guard Lord that his armor was in need of repair. And since Toutousai had come and gone to reforge Tenseiga, there was only a short 2 days to fix it because the 3rd day would be spent traveling to retrieve the new katana. The Demon Lord acquiesced to his lackey's suggestion and left his rocky perch to quietly knee down on the ground to allow his short compatriot to remove the bulky armor. Both demons thought the process would be quick and painless as it possibly could be, however, the theory behind this concept was easier said than could be accomplished. So when time for the armor to physically come off, that was a whole different story -- What appeared to his two loyal fans as a stink their beloved TaiYoukia was making was really their Lord's discomforting impatience at waiting to relieve himself of the heavy armor grating against his sensitive skin due to that annoying fight he had been in just some 12 or so hours ago. The kneeling position he had forced himself into was not helping the situation seeing as waiting for what seemed endless hours for the minion to undo the ties that bound the armor to his royal person was, basically, exhausting and tiresome -- Almost like standing in place atop a 50 foot podium for 3 days without food or water. Only less than three feet tall, the green one scampered around his master in frustration trying to loosen the tight knots with both 3 fingered claws as best he could but found he was losing the battle as none came undone. And further, he found another losing battle as a pair of bleeding-red, fuming yet sparkling amber eyes followed his every movement. Knowingly not bothering to glance up to gaze upon those very vigilant eyes, the small but shaking emerald-hued peon kept his head down in hopes of not incurring anymore of the his Lord's wrath as he concerned himself on working away at those knots until they came loose. But still they would not budge. Prompted by a series of unforgiving throaty growls on the part of his Lord to hasten the process, the dwarf cousin to a dinosaur began to quiver some more as rivers of sweat poured down his misshapen brow to soak into his drab garb, whilst becoming upset at himself for his own ineptitude for not completing his task in a timely fashion. At the back of the small one's mind, it just meant another 100 years would be taken off his life if he didn't move his ass quick. With some more effort, the ties began to unravel. (And perchance, the third goal was to loose the armor.)

Off to the side, the TaiYoukai's favorite had watched with great amusement the antics exchanged between the two demon Lords to which she let out stifled giggles throughout as they struggled with each other and the armor. She had never known either to be so comical as they were now and maybe this was the only chance she'd get to laugh at both, however, when her laughter reached their ears, neither demon was amused. They momentarily stopped their activities to glare at her, which put an end to the party she was having all by herself. Her Lord commanded her to come and help out because with her wiry fingers, she could pry the knots loose. Per the usual scene, she obeyed him without hesitation and allowed her little fingers to deftly to work upon them and soon to her delight and her Lord's, she had freed him from his restraints. With the last of the knots undone, the protective covering of leather and steel came free from his body. Both the favorite and the toad then took up a side of the armor and slowly removed it until it rested on the ground in front of the view of their Lord_. 'It is such a relief to get that heavy armor off', _he thought as he found his way back on to the rock he was sitting on originally only to notice they were staring at him. Puzzled, he looked at them momentarily and then found the spot they were fixated upon. A spot. Not just a stained spot, but a blood-spot. A slowly growing blood-spot. Near his abdomen, there was blood where his enemy's spawn had struck him with his brother's stolen technique that had something to do with flesh piercing diamonds. With his only hand he touched the area to make sure he really wasn't bleeding and gasped in shock at the knife twisting pain he felt assaulting his lower left mid section, front to back, when he realized he was. Canines clenched together, eyes tightly closed shut and mouth twisted in some unrecognizable shape, the Youkai Prince doubled over in pain clutching the wound in some effort to hedge the flow of blood as it began to spread out evenly coating every crevice of his mid section, his clothes, his hand and his claws to where it was now dripping from them to form small crimson pools on his pant legs. An urge came to him suddenly commanding him to move from his stone seat to some place somewhat more comfortable and giving the surrounding landscaping was mostly like that of a desert, the choicest spot was his mount. With citrine eyes parted just enough to allow him to see and through labored breathing, he managed to move himself to situate his battered body in reclining position with back up against the beast. His minions gasped seeing their Lord moving so awkwardly from point A to point B and rushed to his aid. Midway through his journey, as he was grasping onto his mount for stability and as a crutch, he barked at the two telling them in essence to leave him be. He wished to be left alone and wished even more to be laying down under some shade tree far removed from everything and everyone. He wanted rest. Sweet, sweet rest for he was feeling sorry, selfish and sore.

The proud youkai settled in up against the scaly coldness of his mount's belly and quickly looked away from the two who wouldn't leave him alone for they were showing concern for him again! It was written all over their faces! How pathetic! He didn't need this! They also started getting closer to him again: Before they had been some 10 feet away when they saw him making his "big move" and now it obviously apparent they had inched a lot closer to where he lay for they were only two feet away. His warning grunts, growls and glares were, obviously, _not working_. How dare they disobey him! He shot them another infamous death glare and rapidly looked away again like some pouting, upset spoiled child as he clutched his wound once again. The pain was subsiding and so wasn't the bleeding, which meant his youkai healing was working. At least this appeased him slightly even if his minions were not. While he was ignoring them, his eyes decided to ignore their dull scenery and promptly shut themselves for the comfort of blackness and take in at least 40 winks. With the growling and evil looks finally stopping, the toad and the whelp closer approached their Lord cautiously in hopes not to incur any more of his anger and both blanked when they got right up in his face to notice he was fast asleep! Mouths falling to the ground and rubbing their eyes in disbelief while staring into each other's bewildered eyes, they could not believe the utmost powerful of all youkai had just dozed off not of his own accord -- His posture was slackened, his head tilted forward to his left somewhat and his bloodied hand had fallen lazily from its original place to the ground. Their eyes darted back and forth between themselves and their slumbering master for a few more moments longer until each got a devious smile on their faces, which completely meant they were up to no good for the good of the aristocratic assassin. They nodded to each other and put their mutual unspoken plan into action. Hurried whispers, the scuttling of footsteps plus the opening and closing of saddlebags filled the inu-youkai's oversensitive ears for some minutes before they stopped altogether, which roused him from his dream state into semi-consciousness piquing his curiosity as to what his subjects were up to. His eyes slowly opened to reveal and comprehend the sight before him: There standing an arms length on either side of him were the only two friends he had to his name, one with a needle in her hand pointed straight in the air and the other with fresh bandages in his so as to make to blatantly evident what they were about to do. Wide eyed and very startled, their Lord choked/balked at the prospect of being turned into a live guinea pig and tried to move himself far from their immediate area, however, his exhausted body and limbs would not bend to his command and therefore did not budge from their place. Ah well, His Infallibleness was fallible once again. Defeated, he let an exasperated sigh and lay there limp as a dead frog waiting to be dissected. His favorite got herself into a kneeling position beside his right thigh and leaned in towards his waist gingerly to untuck his top from his bottoms as the other held the instruments of destruction and still ended up getting a "happy" death glare from an inwardly nervous youkai noble. It was funny to notice that his henchman didn't cower in fear as much as he usually did, but just stood there with his eyes off to one side, whistling to no one but the wind. The youkai Lord made it a point to punish the damn toad with a good head pounding when he was able to move. Things were just not going his way today, by Kami! He then turned his glare from his henchman to fixate pointedly on his little girl.

Yes, on the interior he was nervous _and_ worried for good reason considering the slightest of pressure against any part of his body sent it into a short-lived whirlwind of pain, however, being the stoic controller he was, he withstood it. Or rather, he _tried _to withstand it albeit never showing one ounce of emotion. The pain his little girl was unknowingly inflicting upon him as she continued in her quest to fix him made his body flinch involuntarily and infrequently but it was more noticeable in his legs when the pain was more severe. This made it kind of hard for her to finish her task because his twitching lower appendages kept knocking the poor kid on her butt. And of course, the green one had to needlessly scold her for upsetting their Lord, which led to a squabble and finger pointing amongst the two. "_Naze!_?," his mind exclaimed in thought_. "Why now!?" "Why won't they let me be!?" "My Royal Person needs rest and foremost sleep!" "Why can they just not GO AWAY!? At least for a little while?!" _His beleaguered conscious whirled with such trivial unanswered questions as these to a predicament that seemingly had no end in sight, at least for the short run, that is. The same thoughts also echoed painfully against his skull as they repeated themselves over and again like some broken record player tune and were only further made worse by his minion's screams as they punctuated each thought process criss-crossing his cerebrum in some perverse, reverberating, rhythmic pattern that not even the most accomplished musician would not attempt to play. Unbeknownst to them, their master's eyes were squinting and his facial features ticking in reaction (more than some perverted old geezer's introduction to porno on the net) to the small war going they involuntarily caused inside his poor old head and if they could have just looked up for a moment to see the emotion scribbled, like some messy ransom note, all over their master's face, the fight would have ended sooner due to the extreme wonderment etched on their faces. However, this did not happen. However, what did happen was their royal liege's mind becoming ever darkening with each nasty little thought he could conceive of with doing them in, but those quickly faded as the meaningless fight in front of him dragged on and on and on. Useless threats, base comments, raised voices and maybe a neck choke or two had his once perfect pale-white countenance angering in different shades of deep crimson as the color transversed his contorting facial features; His once beautiful yellow-citrine eyes narrowed in sanguineous-letting disgust as they darted between the two heated parties. The fatigued, wounded youkai Prince had enough of their needless bullshit and raised his voice to its usual ominous level of forewarning that dripped with stabbing overtones of an icy menace if they did not break from their activities immediately. Automatically stepping back about 4 paces each and fearing for their lives, they promptly put an end to it. Some moments later, the guilty ones glanced up with the utmost of caution in observance of one steaming Lord, who was redder than his no-good bastard, brother's outfit and about to blow his only head gasket like one on a really old radiator belonging to a 1984 Toyota stick-shift, rust-bucket (A/N: my old car) if they didn't cool it. The green one dared to step forward in their defense to explain their actions their Lord noticed but "the look" put the toad back in his place.

With the fight at a stalemate and life back to some sort of "normalcy" again, the Lord of the Western Lands gave one more menacing glare at his two minions to make sure they were not going to act up again and when satisfied they weren't, slouched into the belly of his two headed mount and slipped again for the 2nd time that afternoon into the blissful ignorance of darkness known as sleep. In a case of mind versus matter, it was Matter 2, Mind zilch. Dumbfounded for the second time that day, the two do-gooders or evil-doers, depending on who's point of view you're coming from, lost no time in putting their gaping jaws back into place and taking swift action to heal their Master once and for all. Quickly, the little girl took her cue in finishing up her task of removing his haori from his chest to expose his wound while the green imp took his to thread the aforementioned needle and so with a bit of water here and a bit of piercing there, they had their Lord's lesion cleansed and stitched in no time. They had also managed to clean the bloodstains from his hands and claw in addition to parts of his clothes to where just mere outlines were now showing. Through the whole procedure, their Lord had been asleep and for that they were thankful. Neither the pouring of water, the skin jabbing nor their many movements had awoken him since he was seemingly 'dead' to the world in that very moment, however, his reverie would soon come to end in the form of a light breeze brushing past his bare, exposed skin. Brrrrrrrrr! Subconsciously, the thought of feeling any sort of draft against any part of his skin whether exposed or not should not have bothered him so much because as reasoning would have it, he was impervious to this sort of thing and the last time he checked, he was a TaiYoukia, damn it! Subconsciously, he scratched his head in confusion and he began to move slightly. Eh!? Wait, something else didn't make any sense now – Where was this tugging feeling he felt coming from? And what about this burning sensation emanating from his lower regions? Plus, his nipples hurt big time and were more erect than his no-good bastard, brother's perverted traveling companion, el houshi-sama, could ever be whilst being surrounded by a village of sex-starved virgins. Scratch that thought….just plain nasty! GRRRR!! Subconsciously, he shook his head to be rid of it. And speaking of the opposite sex, since when had he taken an interest in an inu-youkai female? Or one in him? Per chance one was one trying to seduce him currently? Subconsciously, he gave himself a goofy grin. This would explain a lot! Mm, mmm! Why was it dark? Night sure came quick. Why did it feel he like he had mounds of duct tape over his eyes? Wtf is duct tape? Yes, things were certainly not making any sense at present. This time he subconsciously (again!) scratched his head with his left hand while furrowing his brow in sheer perplexity to make sense of his predicament and wait!…Left hand?…WTF!? This prompted him to become extremely agitated. GRRRR!! He moved a whole lot more to discover that his face, neck, hand and portions of his clothes were wet? And how had his haori and under shirt suddenly sprouted legs and removed themselves from his person?! WTF!? He was topless!? ERRR!! It was not some attractive female violating him it was that scum-sucking, boot-licking, ass-kissing, bulgy-eyed, green-skinned underling! AAAAAHHH!! His eyes shot wide open and he sat up with a violent start, freaking out the two do-gooders who stood before him with such things as washcloths and bandages in their grasp. He eyed them suspiciously because he knew it was them who had done it. Why else would there be such a mess around him? Fearing for their lives, they made it a point of disappearing from his sight for the short run. Defeated yet again, this one demon Lord slumped back into his former resting place cursing everything around him: Gawdammed sleep! Always interfering! Gawdammed caring minions! Always caring! Gawdammed fate!! Always intervening!

The scene wasn't as bad as it seemed: True his chest was exposed but his haori was still about his shoulders and his hakama was where it should be, so to his relief he hadn't been violated…. but on 2nd thought a roll in the hay would be worthwhile (_note to this self, get laid. the stress of being one very hot, one armed, insensitive TaiYoukia is just amazing…so much pressure to be… perfect!)._ Ahem. Thanks to his meddling minions' care, he felt much cleaner and his wounds were healing and further, he was sporting some rad new bandages, which was tres chic for a demon of his stature. (A/N: Yeah, whatever.) Also, he had his Fluffy draped about his royal person, which added extra comfort in knowing that he was well cared for even though he didn't show it. After tidying up, the two annoying caregivers eventually came back round to his immediate area seeing as they needed an excuse to check in on him. It was apparent that they were allowing him some cooling off time before showing up to meddle in his life once again. After all, he had been nearly been crushed like a ripe persimmon by his enemy's incarnation. (A/N: You must have read the manga to know the meaning here.) In yet another case of the two of them collaborating in front of their master's presence, they decided it was best to make sure he was in satisfactory condition for his strange facial ticks and his talking in his sleep whilst in La-La Land was quite concerning to them. His behavior like this author's fic, was so OOC for their Lord. Best to keep him alive, you know. They came to stand on either side of their Sama again and they gazed quizzically into his eyes looking for a sign of healing and they got it when he decidedly flexed his claws in their general direction. With contained amusement, he watched them scamper away like that female cat does in those Pepe LePew cartoons. Ah, the power of being mean and evil. It did have its perks like intimidation, ultimate power, immediate respect and getting people under 3 feet tall to follow you around. (A/N: Not only is he the president of the Mean and Evil Club, he's a member.) And then it had its down sides like alienation, misunderstanding, needless fighting, and defeat. With this in mind, he reclined back into the belly of the beast and contemplated how he got to be so banged up.

He knew as well as they did, his wounds were more severe than he let on for the hurting still lingered in his countenance and movements half a day the fight ended. It was a fight he would much rather forget now, than remember this day. Yet no matter how hard he tried to forget, he could not stop recalling and/or replaying the minutest of details of the damnable thing over and over in his beleaguered mind. Further, memory would serve him quite well this coming night -- A night which he was not looking forward to in which reality would come a calling. Like himself, he had a mind and a memory that would not let go, and, could _not ever_ let go. Not now, not ever. He was a very driven Being never satisfied with anything, be it material or spiritual or what have you, except for the thirst and passion to be ever more powerful than his beloved and revered Chichuie. Not even the precious gift of life sated him-- A thing which he continually took for granted as his subconscious and swollen ego told him he was Kami's gift to all of Youkai kind. He was a TaiYoukia, for chrissake: A most powerful and deadly, yet a most beautiful and most perfect, creature not to be reckoned with even if one dared to do so. Repeatedly told by his ego he was infallible needing no one's help in order to survive and that no one individual could neither hurt him nor kill him nor maim him, his saving at the hands of his only brother was a defeat of those very beliefs and a complete humiliation. Constantly, too, he held onto grudges long after they had been repaid many times over. For a normal being retribution would come just but once, but for His Highness, once was just never enough. The morose, unfounded vendettas he had against his brother, the Inu-Tachi, the entire human race and his dear Chichiue were just among many of the ones he held. He could never just forgive and forget or turn the other cheek like most normal beings could because he was compelled by his self-righteous sense of justice to pursue his vengeance to the ultimate of persecutions. His intended victims' deaths weren't good enough to quell his appetite for destruction for he'd travel to Seven Hells to seek out their souls in order to torture them as he saw fit. He would not let them rest in peace and once he found them, he'd drag their screaming and kicking souls from the depths of their final resting places to the surface of the living where he would kill them a second time, a third time a fourth time, etc. And if his psyche was not replete, he would then repeat the process over and over and over again, except in a more evil and vile fashion than previous, as an obsessed compulsive haze of vengeance took hold of him. He was fanatical on revenge and the incredible amount of anger flowing through his flesh and blood ebbed into his every being in the form of vicious, unwarranted actions, words and deeds that he never once regretted. This Royal Demon's downright mean-ness, intolerance and blatant disregard for others had him reveling in the fact the he was the one of the prime causal effects in so much chaos and misery going on during the Sengoku Jidai. There would be no peace for his victims as long as he was still alive, breathing and walking the Earth as he was. He, in his essence, was beautiful creeping Death with a pulse.

For centuries he went on like this -- Getting his rabid, sick, morbid pleasures through causing others extreme pain. And, as always with him, he reveled in the fact his victims were quite aware of who their killer was before he actually dealt the "blow". Certainly he was no virgin having his sexual romps during times of his heat with anything that crossed his path, however, he took no satisfaction of it for he was just fulfilling an inherit base need. Whether his partner of the moment lived or died was a matter his choosing. In most circumstances, he or she left without incident. The closest thing he attributed to real sexual gratification was the orgasmic blood lust, the power craving, the control mongering and overtones of sheer anarchy that aroused and captivated his darkened cold heart during the killing process -- Claws ripping into flesh from bone, terrified screams filling the air and his sensitive ears, body soaked in a crimson shower of warm sweet human blood, nostrils filled with the scents of glorified morbidity, horrified looks frozen onto the faces of dead, canines biting fleshy masses out of still warm bodies, eyes sporadically flashing red in response to his 'handiwork', bodies strewn about villages like carelessly placed toys etc. It was a process almost akin to birth, which allowed the user's paralyzed soul to be momentarily set free of its bodily constraints as its newly released emotions gushed forth to breathe in the life that they were so vehemently denied. The euphoric feeling circulating through his body and soul was short lived as he sought squash it down with every bit of controlled hatred he could muster. Soon the face of a frenzied maniacal destroyer was replaced with that of a calm, handsome being. When all was done, a less than perfect, bloodstained, silken-clad Inu TaiYoukia would walk silently away from the carnage he had inflicted with the wind at his back. In his mind, he had done no wrong. Everything he did was right.

His long life span may have nearly made him close to immortal but the many years of his living did not lend him any insight as to why he did what he did, for he just did it without thought. He was well educated in the schooling sense and quite skilled in the art of war receiving the finest tutoring in both fields any youkai Prince could ever receive from the best, brightest and most learn-ed scholars and generals the demon world produced for that era. His parents during his school years made damn sure that their only heir and the next Inu no Taisho received the best of all educations possible for there was not another son to take the throne and secure the family line at that time. And further, seeing as the matriarch of the family had decided not to produce any more children due to a loveless marriage (A/N: assumption), there was no other way to produce another heir if, Kami forbid, something happened to the present one. The mating fortunes of the current Oyakata-sama were bleak to say the least: With such things at the forefront of his agenda to address like securing the Western Lands, petty skirmishes with demon Lords to quell, techniques to steal (see manga 490),treaties to sign, human villages to conquer, and of course the education of his son, finding a suitable mate was the last thing he need concern himself about. More often than not, dear old demon Dad was away and left the raising of his young demon Prince to his Mother, tutors, servants, and generals. From an early age, the absence of a father figure during said demon Prince's formative years took a heavy toll on the youngster in the form of his cool, emotionless yet caring Mother, whom after he patterned his behavior. She indirectly taught him showing signs of emotion were a sign of weakness and better to play it cool than let anyone see you sweat. And perhaps, she was the one who instilled the hatred of humans into him? Going by what his young eyes saw that his father portrayed – super-demon strength, complete supremacy, utmost respect, and the mastery of 2 powerful swords -- He exampled himself after his esteemed Chichiue and strived to be just like him, however, after he attained that level, he wanted ever so much, much more. For many endless years, he toiled away at trying to out-do his old man and the only way he saw to achieve this goal was to be the most unattached and brutal killer he could be. Rule with fear and tyranny was the unwritten law he lived by—The only way to carve out a path for himself. Hours before the night of his father's death, he asked to be given his two most powerful swords, Sou'unga and Tessaiga, for he thought they would be the completion to his quest for ultimate power. His old man knew right from the get go his son was a power-starved lunatic and denied his son the request. The young youkai Prince was asked if he had any desire to protect anything or anyone and his answer was in the negative. The soon to be ex-Inu no Taisho was enraged by this response and transformed into his Inu Youkai form to trounce off to save his 2nd son, who had yet to be born. Maybe salvation for the family line, at least for the time being, could come in the form of the hanyou he had sired with a human female and not the full youkai monster that did not understand life in its simplest form. True Inu-Papa knew his eldest needed to learn some hard life lessons, and over time, could be the leader he desired to be. However, for the present, the demon Prince didn't see it that way. Again, rule with fear and tyranny was the unwritten law he lived by—The only way to carve out a path for himself. He was oblivious to his own character failures and how to correct them. Father and son parted ways in the understanding that they didn't understand each other and had not resolved their relationship leaving many open issues for the heir to sort his own.

At several hundred plus years old, he was still waiting for his sun to rise. The dawn of his life began, but it was soon plunged into murkiness after his father had died. He knew his Mother was alive but didn't have much contact with her seeing as he was most like her and usually when a child is more like one parent than another, there is detestation afoot. If this had been the case so long ago, then he surely he had forgotten about it. Without so much as a word to his Mother or anyone else, he got up and left home to wander Japan trying to find his own destiny. Finding one's destiny is a long, arduous, annoying process full of hurdles to overcome and fraught with perils to face and when you're a human, you only got so much time. You either know what you want to do at an early age, you drink yourself into early death or you have an epiphany later on if life and then find your calling. But when you're a youkai, like our Demon Hero here, you have an extraordinary amount of time to figure things out. You have centuries to try different callings – peasant, chef, little slugger, FBI agent, bum, alchemist, accountant, computer engineer, samurai champloo, 80s head banging rock star, houshi, drunk, president of Iraq, space cowboy, wanderer, overlord, the devil's son, bully, Vatican diplomat, Viz CEO, or perhaps an aristocratic assassin. Yes, the very last choice was the best fit. If wiping out an entire army could've been a career choice, he probably would've taken the job. But as it were, armies were few and far between to find standing seeing as the humans comprising them had a tendency to destroy themselves before he could. So that was out. The alternative was taking out an ad in the personals because his swollen ego was seeking a mistress, who could sate him in the form of offering him blind rage, loathing of all things living, and ultimate power along with a map to his long lost sword. He got his mistress and for while it was good until she couldn't locate the sword, so he kicked her ass to the proverbial curb and settled for a green, misshapen one who did find that convenient missing sword. Seems his 2 headed staff had the magic touch. He thought his troubles were over when he found it. Little did he know, they had just begun. Seems that little half brother of his was trouble, costing him a pretty Yen and then some. He knew that time was not free and it cost if one dillydallied, but he never thought it would cost so much – as in an arm, his ego, his pride, a sword, his armor (from time to time), his backward thinking, learning to accept things beyond his control, etc. When would he achieve greatness? Or would he not? Was greatness something that just kept alluding because it liked fucking with him for shits and giggles cause it was bored and that's what it felt like to this one demon lord or maybe, in reality, it was more like he didn't have 25 cents to buy a clue. He wondered if he would ever find where he'd be or would he go out in a blaze of glory? Time could and would only tell.

More often than he anticipated, his mind was constantly analyzing why its owner was not as powerful as he could be at this stage of their life. His mind -- It was created at conception and functional at birth. It was not a normal mind: Not one of an empathic, understanding and caring individual, but one of a devious, self-serving, unfeeling individual. It was a mind that was active 24 hours a day, 365 days a year as it constantly thought and over analyzed the nature of things save for those times where it was handed its ass on a silver platter. It cared not for the consequences of its actions nor the aftermath it left for it felt not the attachment to such consequences. It _was_ utterly detached. The mind made its owner leave his one and only mother and palacial home just like that. No thought or consequence of how she felt. He respected her and such but had no emotional bond to her. It was apparent he was too much like her in appearance and temperament and because of these traits, possibly had no connection to her. She raised him and expected him to be a good son but seeing his unquenchable thirst to surpass his father, her vision of what he could be died. Could it be she made him feel like no one and his heart died? Who knows. Moments after Chichue passed, it was all over mentally for him -- He was on auto pilot immediately after that. His unresolved feelings and issues with dear old dad manifested themselves in unholy ways. He put on a tough youkai façade on the exterior while he was covering for all those raging, misunderstood feelings on the inside. For centuries he would try to impress anyone he came across with his incredible taiyoukai talents. Humans and demons feared him for those said talents, which were really an excuse for murder. As such, for the many years he lived there was a mutually inclusive amount of dead bodies everywhere. Who exactly was he impressing? Himself only, perhaps? Or anyone lower than him? Or was he substituting those people for his dead father? Killing them was a substitute for eradicating the last bitter memory of dad he retained -- The one that contained the blasphemous conception of his hated bastard half brother. Yes, that was his motive for murder. The Hated One who caused the only demon he worshipped to die so an untimely death pushed his mind over the edge. It only now thought of complete power and conquest. How could it be more dominant? What means could it try to accomplish this impossible task that constantly eluded it? How could it underhandedly erase its enemies by creative means? When would be the perfect time to do so? Why was it such a bother to plan to eradicate its hurdles so elaborately? There were so many questions and too little answers. It drove him to lunacy. Was this a sort of private mental dysfunctional he held or a curse placed upon him by the Fates that would not stop until it was sated with the desired results that could only be accepted by a delusional and mad mind? Especially one fresh from a recent defeat?

He basically had no friends or peers his own age he could associate with. The only 'friends' he had were a tormented toad and an 8-year female child. Both were beneath him in a figurative and literal sense but one more so than then other. He put his little girl up on a pedestal more than he knew and the frog he just tortured outright. Was it proper he justify his behavior for one over the other by ignoring the consequences of his actions? In every once of his being from his pained head to his aching toes he knew it was not right, however, for the time being it worked, so he went with it. He also knew that in the near future he'd have to mend his associations but seeing as he was slightly incapacitated, that could wait. His relationships went from one extreme to the other and with none in mid range to balance the equation. It all seemed so damned odd. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he have a normal relationship with anyone his age? Was he afraid of how he'd be judged by peers? No, that was not it. He was too confident in who he was to fall into that kind of bullshit thinking. Maybe it was that he just could not relate to them? Just maybe that was it. Or was that he thought he was above it all and sacrificed relationships to be his "own person?" He knew he was incredibly anti-social and did not like most others preferring to be on his own than in the company of others. Why was he this way - a driven and anti-social being? He knew not. He only knew what was given to him at the onset – at birth. The outward cold, emotionless façade he placed upon himself was just that: A façade, a sham, a white lie. Inside he was more human than the Hanyou that called himself his relation. He just had not discovered that yet. When his father died a fiery death at the hands of a human named Takemaru, the event hardened him stunting his emotional and personal growth for a very long time. For lack of a better term, the magical world with his Chichiue was over and the reality of his own began. Seemingly, no matter how hard he tried, he could not make his life as exciting as it once was and the doldrums of disillusionment soon set in. The only light in his life had been extinguished giving way to darkness and he was his younger brother's age if not a little more than that when it happened. It wasn't until at least 300 years later when the little girl came to stay with him that he really learned to live. He loved that child like his own and an innate emotion led him to protect her to no end.

Did he really know how much she changed him?

Before Father's death, his old man wished for him to be something he could never, ever, ever be -- Caring and Protective. He denied the request thinking it foolish and went on his way that dark, cold snowy, night. Again, he and Father left many issues unresolved. The young lord thought the new arrival was his replacement and the one Father favored to be the heir to the Western Lands. The oldest son felt slighted and that feeling stayed with him from that day forward. So with that overlying all else, he went to no end to eradicate his little half brother to get back into Father's graces and restore his good family name. That's what he thought. He was so wrong. It only took a chopped off left arm, a run in or 2 with the kaze no kizu, a few other incidents, a little girl named Rin, a useless healing and life saving sword called Tenseiga, and a near death experience with an armored foe named Mouryourmaru to rearrange his thinking just enough to reconsider his lot in life.

He wasn't God?! What the fuck!?

The Great Demon Lord-Prince, Sesshoumaru, was indeed broken. He was a time bomb waiting to explode.

Thankfully for us and the manga, he was not. :)

For the next three days he'd rest and recover from his _experience..._

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A/N: Hoping to have the next chapter up in the next 2 months. No guarantees. May take another 3 years to write. We shall see.


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